


be my accomplice to my crime (partners in crime)

by watyonameisgurl



Series: i'm bonnie, you can be clyde [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (probably), Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, Bootlegging, Great Depression, Historical Inaccuracies, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 18:34:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15563937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watyonameisgurl/pseuds/watyonameisgurl
Summary: It’s been two and half years since Liam left and Zayn’s done his best to avoid having to come back for as long as he could for Liam’s sake, turning down deal after deal. He’d tried. God knows he’d tried. But this one had been too big to pass up.[or Liam and Zayn go back to Liam’s hometown for a job and, after facing some demons from his past, Liam takes the opportunity to confront someone else that he can't leave again without facing, even if it's the second hardest thing he's ever had to do (after leaving in the first place)]





	be my accomplice to my crime (partners in crime)

**Author's Note:**

> sigh…this was not supposed to take me over ~~54839089305238362 years~~ a year to update but my main monstrosity of a fic took over my life and alas here we are
> 
> (title yet again from alessia cara's outlaws in case that wasn't clear)

Liam can feel the butterflies swirling in his stomach as they get closer and closer to town and he’s no less nervous than he was an hour ago or a day ago or a week ago.

It’s been two and half years since Liam left and Zayn’s done his best to avoid having to come back for as long as he could for Liam’s sake, turning down deal after deal, but this one had been too big to pass up. He’d tried. God knows he’d tried. Even gone so far as to try and hide it from Liam so he wouldn’t find out. But Liam had found the telegram early one morning while clearing out both their pants pockets just before leaving for the dry cleaner’s down the street from the hotel they’d been staying at. Zayn had still been asleep as usual, stretched out on the hotel bed in his boxers, sheets tangled around his legs and Liam had dropped back down to the edge of the mattress staring at the paper in his hands and wondering how many more Zayn had thrown away before this one.

It was from the Armitage brothers. Liam knew them. Had gone to school with William, even been friends with him for a brief time, and like most of the boys in town then, had grown up practically worshipping his older brother James. It was clear from the message though this wasn’t the first time they’d tried to contact Zayn or the first time he’d turned them down. Honestly, it’s a wonder they even found him as often as he and Liam move from place to place, though Liam supposes word travels fast on the bootlegging circuit. But from the sounds of it their business was dwindling and they were clearly desperate, willing to pay Zayn an obscene amount of money from their own personal savings just to keep their businesses afloat.

It’s funny how tides turn. The Armitages had always been well-off but the economic troubles had hit everyone hard, including them it seemed. And desperate times made people do desperate things. Like send a telegram to someone they’d sneered at in town just a couple years before. They may have never said anything out loud to Zayn’s face—neither had most of the townspeople—but they didn’t need to. The sentiment was clear. Just as clear as it had been the day James caught Liam staring at him a little too long when he’d tagged along with them on a family trip to their summer lake house.

Even now the memory of it is still so clear in his mind. They were supposed to be in their swimming costumes but James had declared it too hot for swimming costumes and stripped his off, flicking it in Liam and William’s direction before jumping into the lake stark naked. William followed suit but Liam just sat there on the rocks frozen. They teased him mercilessly from the water, calling him shy and a prude but when James finally hauled himself out of the water Liam couldn’t stop himself from staring. Not even when James plopped himself down on the lower set of rocks just a few feet away, half- hidden from Liam’s view but still just enough bare skin on display for Liam to see. William wasn’t paying them any mind, too busy splashing around trying to see if he could catch a fish with his bare hands, but Liam felt rooted to the spot, confused, but unable to tear his eyes away. Until he heard a lowly muttered, “What do you think you’re looking at?” and tore his gaze back up to James’ face to find James peering at him, eyes narrowed. He didn’t have to say anything else for Liam to know what he was thinking.

 _Queer_.

 _Fairy_.

Even at thirteen Liam knew enough to know that people said more with their eyes than they did with their mouths and that look was more than enough to tell him everything he needed to know about himself and the future ahead of him. Like a man hearing his prison sentence and knowing there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it. James never told anyone—at least as far as Liam knows—but Liam hadn’t felt quite right around either of them anymore after that and before long he and William had started to drift apart anyway, drawn to different things.

It’s funny when he thinks about it now but Liam spent his whole life wishing he could be more like James or even William. Wishing he could be effortlessly good at everything he did like they were, wishing he could have the nice clothes and house and the perfect grades, the perfect girlfriend and the perfect life and be revered by everyone in town. Wishing he could be anyone but himself, anything but the way he was. Wishing that he had the freedom to choose his own future instead of having one forced upon him, that one day maybe his family would come upon some strike of luck and end up as well-to-do as theirs so he actually _could_ have a choice. And yet now here they are. On their way to sell illegal moonshine to the Armitages just to help them keep their family and businesses afloat.

There’s a wicked sort of irony in that that’s not lost on him, and he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t just a little bit satisfying knowing that the Armitages have no choice now but to depend on _them_ for their own family’s livelihood. But it doesn’t make all this any easier just the same, doesn’t make coming back any easier.

They pass the town sign and Liam presses sweaty palms into Zayn’s waist, grips at him even tighter, burying his face in the back of Zayn’s neck as the wind whips at his face. He was the one who’d convinced Zayn to come, that this opportunity was too big to pass up, but he can’t seem to help the sinking feeling in his stomach that rears up as they drive down the familiar paved road.

Zayn turns off onto a side road just before they get to the main part of town and it isn’t much longer before they’re pulling into the parking lot of Mo’s Motel, the old run-down place they spent their last night in here together what feels like an eternity ago now.

Once they’ve gotten all their things settled inside Zayn takes Liam by the hand and pulls him back outside to the little courtyard area. It’s not much, just a small patch of grass with a half-rotted wooden bench at the back end of the motel. The sun’s still out and it’s warm on Liam’s neck and the side of his face as he leans into Zayn, watching him light up a reefer. As soon as it’s lit he passes it to Liam and Liam takes a few hits before passing it back, watching Zayn take a couple himself.

It’ll be getting dark soon but Liam’s not worried about it anymore. For now he’s happy just to sit here and enjoy the warm feeling of the sun on his skin, the earthy smell of the smoke and Zayn pressed in close.

“Feel better, babe?” Zayn murmurs into his temple.

“Mmm.”

Zayn laughs, breath ghosting against the side of his face and it feels nice, makes him want to press in closer until there’s nothing left between them.

They sit and watch the sunset, lingering until it starts to get chilly and they’ve smoked the reefer down to the end. Then Zayn tugs him back to their room and lays him down, gives him everything he needs and more until Liam can barely keep his eyes open for another second and it’s the deepest sleep he’s had in weeks. Ever since he first found the telegram and that first little knot of anxiety wedged its way into his stomach, growing larger and more persistent as their arrival date loomed ever nearer. Now though he’s too blissfully tired to even give any of that a second thought.

He’s still half asleep when Zayn presses good-bye kisses into his cheek promising to be back soon as he leaves for a meeting with a contact to get his supplies in order. They’ve got a couple of crates of the more high-end stuff with them already but the real money is in Zayn’s special brew and for that he needs supplies and time to get properly set up. Liam had been dreading being all alone in the motel all night, especially here when everything feels so raw all over again. But now he finds he’s so sated and exhausted that all he can do is roll over and mumble to Zayn unintelligibly. He hears muffled laughter and the sound of the door clicking closed and then he’s drifting off for the second time that night. By the time he wakes in the morning Zayn is wrapped around him again, forehead pressed to the back of his shoulder, and Liam’s too comfortable to move.

They wile the days away cuddled up together in bed, Liam working on new songs, Zayn reading poetry from a new book he picked up along the way in some town neither of them remembers the name of. Sometimes Zayn writes poetry of his own and recites it to Liam in the quiet hours of the early morning. Sometimes Liam sneaks some of Zayn’s verses into his own songs just to surprise him when he performs. But right now this time is just for them.

It’s funny, it feels almost like a vacation if he forgets where they are. It’s rare they get so much time to themselves like this being on the move as much as they are. Zayn’s always got meetings with buyers lined up or clubs to scout and sometimes Liam goes with him when he’s not ensconced working on a new song or preparing for another performance, but it’s been a while since they’ve had this much time to themselves. Not since those fleeting weeks with Louis and his boys a few months back.

Liam still misses them terribly, even though they’d only known each other a short time, and he knows Zayn does too just as sure as he knows they’ll be back. But that won’t be for a while yet. For now time stretches on, idle days passed wrapped up together under the motel sheets. Zayn’s brew won’t be ready for another few days at least, usually needs the better part of a week if not more before it’s nice and ripe and ready for selling. And with only the Armitage deal to worry about and prepare for—because there’s no way in hell Liam is performing anywhere here and Zayn has zero interest in any of the nearby speakeasies—they’ve got nothing else to distract them, nothing else to fill up the time with but each other while they wait.

~

The night of the meet-up for the sale feels like it comes around all too soon and Liam’s not quite ready for their little vacation to be over yet, but he _is_ ready for this deal to be done so they can pack up and go far away from here again.

The meet is scheduled for the middle of the night at an abandoned warehouse just outside of town where Zayn’s been keeping his brew. Liam’s never actually been there but he knows of it. When he was younger there used to be talk of some of the older kids going out there for parties. To get there though they have to cross through town, which is a bit of a surreal kind of experience and not just because it’s so late at night and everything is dark and deserted. With the exception of the night he went to Zayn’s motel Liam’s never travelled through the town so late at night and even then it hadn’t looked how it looks now.

The headlights of Zayn’s motorcycle shine through the windows of once-familiar shops in the town center, illuminating inside, and Liam is shocked to find most of them bare, furnishings removed, signs gone, floors and walls and crevices thick with cobwebs and dust. It’s like driving through a ghost town, every other shop and building they pass appearing decrepit and abandoned-looking, the sound of the bike’s engine the only thing to cut through the eerie silence.

Liam doesn’t have to wonder what happened here though. He knows. It’s the same thing they’ve seen in countless city after city, town after town. Watched over the passing months and years as its slow descent took hold, sucking the life and light out of everything across the land like a disease, hollowing out everything in its path and leaving nothing but desolation and despair in its wake.

Liam had thought, naively, that his town might be one of the few holding up. Not because of any kind of stubborn pride in the town itself or any misplaced optimism—he could care less about most of the people in this town and how it fares if he’s honest. But everyone here with money had always seemed so untouchable.

For as long as Liam can remember the Armitages owned about a third of the property in the town center so anyone who wanted to open up a new shop or business was likely to end up renting from them. It was either that or rent from the Ainsleys, the only other family in town richer than the Armitages, but no one ever wanted to rent from them. Besides the fact that the whole Ainsley family was well-known to be nothing but a bunch of stuck-up, entitled assholes who looked down on everyone else in town, they also charged twice the interest rate. And were known to treat most of their shop owners like shit to boot, antagonizing them every chance they got even in front of customers. They may have had the more desirable properties over the Armitages but in the end most people found renting from the Ainsleys just wasn’t worth it The point is though compared to everyone else in town they’d been richer than rich.

While most everyone else was struggling to get by, only just managing to afford their one house or pay their shop’s rent on time and feed their families, the Armitages and the Ainsleys were living lavish in their big houses at the edge of town. Between them they owned multiple lake houses and summer houses, each had private tutors for their children, along with maids and cooks, and could even afford to go on family trips abroad every so often. Their last year in school William had bragged to everyone who would listen—which was pretty much everyone—about how his parents were allowing him a year off before college to travel to Europe. He’d already been once by that point because his parents had allowed him to tag along when they’d done the same for James following his senior year. And William had spent the months leading up to graduation regaling about how he couldn’t wait to “go back to the beaches of Mallorca and San Sebastian in soak in the Spanish sun” or “spend nights charming the Parisian girls under the shadow of the Eiffel tower.”

Which is why, even after learning of the Armitages’ financial struggles, Liam had still assumed things in town were managing fairly the same as when he’d left. That maybe only a few of the shops might have had to close down or a few people might have had to leave town in search of better paying jobs. He never would have guessed that it would be this bad. But he supposes he should have, especially considering that the Armitages were desperate enough to turn to Zayn of all people.

Liam suspects with most of the shops closed down now both families have probably lost most of their capital, hence the mad scramble for anything that’ll sell—including illegal contraband. Thank goodness it had been the Armitages that had reached out first though and not the Ainsleys. Much as he may have grown to dislike the Armitages over the years they’re at least tolerable in comparison to the Ainsleys. That doesn’t mean he’s looking any more forward to this meeting though.

Not that he technically had to come. Normally he wouldn’t be since Zayn mostly handles these kinds of meetings by himself, with the exception of times when it’s been easier for Zayn to keep his brew with them wherever they’re staying, or the few times Liam’s tagged along just because. This time around he’s not entirely sure why he’s coming. He’d just known he needed to be there. Whether just to see their faces or for some sort of private sense of satisfaction or something else he’s not entirely sure.

When they pull up to the warehouse Liam sees that the Armitages are already there. They’re nowhere in plain sight, probably waiting inside, but Liam recognizes one of their family trucks hidden in the shadows where it’s parked off to the side of the warehouse. Inside William, James, and their father Robert are waiting with gas lanterns. When he and Zayn are close enough for the light to illuminate their faces he notices brief looks of surprise from William and James.

He’s certain there must have been at least a few rumors circulating after he’d left about him running off with Zayn, but given their surprise perhaps the rumors hadn’t quite made their way around to the Armitages. Or perhaps they’d simply dismissed it as just that. Nothing more than the mindless gossip of bored townsfolk. Nevertheless Liam does find some small measure of satisfaction in their surprise.

After a few stilted, frankly awkward, greetings Zayn leads them across the warehouse and out to the backside, to a large stretch of slightly uneven dirt along the wall. He grabs for the shovel leaning against the wall a few feet away, pushing aside the gas lantern of his own he’s stashed here, both of which he must have bought along with his other supplies because there definitely wouldn’t have been room among the small collection of things they usually keep with them to travel from to place (which mostly consists of clothes, a few books and journals, and however many bottles of premade alcohol they can carry with them). Scratching away with the shovel at the top layer of dirt covering the area Zayn gestures for William and James to hold up the lanterns. In the dim light Liam can just make out a sheet, still half covered in a thin layer of dirt, which Zayn lifts to reveal a small dugout with six round barrels tucked inside, three to a row. Squeezed into the small gap of space in the hole alongside the first two barrels is a small satchel, which Zayn reaches down for, pulling out a collection of little metal cups and lifting the lid of one of the barrels. He fills each cup, passing them up to the others and then stands, arms crossed, waiting for their assessment.

None of them says anything out loud, probably trying to maintain whatever small shred of stubborn pride they might have left but Liam’s catches the brief looks of appreciative surprise that pass their faces at their taste.

“How long do you reckon this’ll last us?” Robert asks after he’s slugged the contents of the cup right down.

“At least a couple months probably, give or take, depending on how much and how often you’re dispensing,” Zayn says. “Unless you’re planning on selling it by the barrel, in which case a lot shorter obviously. Better money’s by the barrel, but the quicker money’s by the bottle.”

“How’s that?” William says.

Zayn shrugs. “Don’t have to worry about transport or meetings or any of that, you can just bottle it at your leisure, pack up the bottles, take ‘em wherever you want to go—to wherever or whoever you’re looking to sell to—and jack the price to however much you want a bottle. If people think you’ve got a limited supply there’ll be more willing to pay a pretty price right away for just one bottle from you cause they won’t know when you’re gonna run out or when you’ll have more. Really just depends on how much of a time crunch you’re on. Though I suppose if you can manage it you can always do a bit of both. Sell a barrel here, sell a few bottles there. Gets tricky when you’re selling from a centralized location like you’ll be though cause too many people can get to talking and if word gets out you sold a barrel to one guy one day and only a few bottles to another guy the day before it might hurt your sales, so you’ll have to be careful if you wanna go that route.”

“What about when we run out of this?” James asks, jutting his chin down at the barrels. “Should we contact you the same way when we need more?”

Zayn shakes his head, stepping over to Liam to wrap an arm around his waist and pull him close and Liam leans into him on instinct. “No need. We won’t be coming back here. This was just a one-off. A favor, I suppose you could say, in what was…so clearly a desperate hour of need. I can put you in touch with someone nearby who procures similar services. His merchandise isn’t quite as good as mine unfortunately, but I’m sure in time if you choose to continue with this particular nature of business you might be able to find someone else who comes close to my level of skill.”

William and James look quite enraged at being told off in such a manner. Well that and possibly the way Zayn is currently wrapped around him while Liam smiles smugly. Robert just looks tired, and old, much older than Liam remembers, as if he’s aged decades in just the two short years that have passed.

When James steps forward looking about ready to explode from his barely contained rage and contempt, clearly gearing up to say something probably spiteful and vindictive in response, Robert just lays a hand over his chest, pushing him back and shaking his head.

William simply sneers, looking like he wants to follow in his brother’s footsteps but holds himself back, clearly realizing even in his anger that they can’t afford for this deal to go south. If they want their businesses to survive past the next couple of months they still need the information for Zayn’s contact. And, most importantly, for him to put in a good word for them.

Zayn holds all the power here. One wrong move and he could simply tell his guy not to bother doing business with them, maybe even pass along the message to anyone else he pleases along the circuit and leave the Armitages high and dry for the foreseeable future.

Once James and William have managed to calm themselves down as much as can be expected Robert signals for them to bring the truck around so they can start loading up a couple of the barrels, leaving the rest there for now to be dealt with later.

With some finesse Zayn manages to convince Robert to even pay a bit extra both to ensure his good word and for the few extra supplies, like the shovel and lantern and sheet, that he’ll be leaving behind. Not that they’ll really need any of it considering they’ve likely got plenty of their own but it’s just another way for Zayn to exert his power and get a bit more money out of them for things he’d normally just be leaving behind without getting his money back for them.

Once the initial barrels have been packed and secured aboard the truck—along with the couple of crates of the premade high-end stuff he and Zayn brought with them—and the remaining stash re-covered, Robert writes out a check to Zayn for the agreed upon price, shakes his hand, and then they’re all on their way.

The drive back across town to their motel is peaceful, the silence feeling almost comforting now instead of suffocating and Liam can’t stop smiling into Zayn’s shoulder. He’s so proud he wants to shout from the rooftops.

Back in their room they celebrate with some reefer and a bit of Zayn’s personal moonshine stash among _other_ festivities that involve a lot less clothes and less words.

~

In the morning they pack all their things up by the door, ready to go for when they check out. Zayn takes off for the bank to cash his check, wishing Liam good luck before he goes. Because eager as he might be to leave Liam still has some unfinished business of his own to take care of.

The journey across town is not as nerve-wracking as he thought it would be. He’d been worried hushed whispers and snide looks might follow him in the streets, but mostly people don’t pay him any mind. Not for any conscious reason he thinks though, but because they’re too wrapped up in their own troubles. The atmosphere is an altogether different thing than it was two years ago. Where once there was a fairly lively town thrumming with jovial, albeit pious, townsfolk happily greeting each other on their way to the shops or church, children playing in the streets, and a bustling town center full of life, now there’s only rushed, sparse scatterings of people and mostly empty, abandoned buildings. Haggard faces pass him by without a word, and nearly everyone he sees looks thin and gaunt, overworked or underworked—it’s hard to tell the difference these days—the life in their eyes nearly dimmed out. What used to be a local restaurant, one of the few in town, has since been turned into a soup kitchen and a line of men and women stand outside in worn clothing waiting to be let in. In the light of day the town somehow looks even more desolate than it had at night, despite the few smatterings of people milling about. Or perhaps because of them.

Liam passes them by, continuing in his trek past the town center, past the foreclosed signs that litter the houses of the residential areas. He isn’t even sure if when he gets where he’s going there’ll still be someone or something to go back _to_. There’s a good chance he’ll be met with just another foreclosure sign and he isn’t sure whether the thought brings him relief—at not having to face his past—or regret—at the possibility of not having the chance to, not being able to get the closure he came here seeking.

The front lawn is just how he remembered it, tiny and patchy, with a little struggling garden to the side, unmarred by any foreclosure signs. And sure enough when he slips inside, quiet as he can, his mother is at the kitchen sink, humming as she does the dishes. Liam just watches her for a moment, wanting to treasure this one blissful moment of nostalgia before everything comes crashing down again like he fears it might.

He watches her dry dish after dish, waiting until she gets to the last one before he finally says softly, “Mom?”

She turns sharply in surprise, gasping and nearly dropping the plate in her hands.

There’s a long moment where she just looks at him, taking him in, and Liam fidgets a bit under the scrutiny, trying not to think about all the things that must be running through her head about him and where he’s been and the circumstances he left under.

He’s expecting a reprimand at the very best, a sharp “Get out” at the worst, leaning more towards the latter, but instead he gets neither. She simply sets the plate down, eyes filling with tears, and strides across the kitchen to envelop him in a hug.

He never thought he’d get this and he squeezes her just as tight as she’s squeezing him, tears spilling down his own cheeks. She holds him for a long time and he just lets her, shutting his eyes and just breathing her in. She still smells the same, flowery from the mix of perfume she wears and her time in the garden, with a just a hint of dish soap underneath, and he lets it fill his lungs, never wanting to forget it. When she finally pulls back it’s with a watery laugh as she runs a hand over his nearly bare head.

“You cut your hair,” she says.

“Yeah,” he replies, ducking his head a bit anxiously.

“I like it.” She smiles, running her hand down the side of his face to rest underneath his chin. “You look very handsome.”

“Thank you,” he says, ducking his head again, but this time out of bashfulness.

“Do you, um…do you want some tea?” she says hesitantly. “I was just about to make lunch.”

“Um…yeah, okay.” Liam nods.

He hadn’t planned on staying more than a few minutes. He’d mostly only come just to see her again one more time before he left, and maybe explain why he left if she would let him. But he supposes there’s no harm in staying a little while. Zayn will understand. And besides his father won’t be home for hours yet. He truck hadn’t been in the drive so Liam’s pretty sure it’s safe to assume he’s still working at the factory, one of the few places in town that probably still has work, though Liam’s sure plenty also had to be laid off to keep it going. His father must simply have been one of the lucky ones who didn’t make the draw to get cut. At least he’s assuming so anyway, though he supposes he could just be working somewhere else, wherever will take him.

His mother sets to work darting about the small kitchen, making those little tea sandwiches she always used to make him on the weekends for lunch. Tiny little squares and triangles with cheese or jam in between, the only things they could afford most of the time with meat usually being too much for them to spare or use lightly outside of dinner and special occasions. Once for Liam’s birthday she’d snuck a bit into Liam’s share of tea sandwiches as a surprise. His father had been absolutely livid when he’d found out, going on about they couldn’t afford to waste what little meat they could afford for something so trivial and didn’t she understand how hard he’d had to work just to afford what little they had. Despite that though it’s still one of Liam’s favorite memories and he smiles fondly thinking about it now even as he takes a bite into a little square of bread and jam.

He tells her about Zayn and she’s less surprised than he expected. Says she’d heard tell of the two of them spending time together before Liam left, that she always knew Liam was different and had a feeling that was why he’d run off and who he’d gone with. She says it with more kindness than Liam expected too, not a hint of disgust or anger or even bitterness. Says she understands why Liam had to get away from this town and that she doesn’t blame him for leaving. Speaks with a hint of wistfulness to her voice that makes Liam wonder if she hasn’t always wanted to leave too but maybe just never had the chance, stuck here like near everyone else in this town, with no way out because he knows she’d never leave his father. Difficult as he may be sometimes she loves him, the same way Liam will always love him even though he knows his father will never accept him as he truly is.

They sit at the small table in the kitchen with their tea and their sandwiches and talk for hours, Liam gushing about all the places he’s visited and clubs he’s performed in while she catches him up on the latest town gossip. Not that he really cares to hear any of it but it’s nice just to hear her voice, her laugh, feels almost like times past if he forgets why he’s here. But eventually it starts to get close to the time his father’ll be coming home—still working at the factory after all—and Liam helps her clear the table and wash the dishes. When it’s finally time for him to go he hugs his mother tight once more, promising to write and send her postcards for every place he visits, maybe even a photograph or two every now and then if they can manage it. And then he’s making his way out the door, down the little pathway that divides the front lawn, his mother tearfully waving him off as he waves back until they’re too far to see each other.

Zayn is waiting for him in the courtyard of the motel when he gets there. All of their things packed up and loaded onto the back of his bike. He lets Liam fall into his arms and they stand there a while, clinging to each other, breathing each other in as they watch the sun edge down over the horizon.

When they finally leave it’s bittersweet. The wind whips at Liam’s face as they drive past the town sign and he’s glad to be leaving it behind, he just wishes he didn’t have to leave _everyone_ in it behind. Maybe it doesn’t have to be goodbye for good though. Maybe one day he’ll come back. Just for her. Only for her. For now though he tries his best to be content with taking everything, all that this place represents—all the people, all the memories, the good and the bad—and putting it all behind him.

The sun dips below the horizon, the trees blowing by them, Zayn’s warm frame pressed against him, and Liam closes his eyes and thinks of their boys and how happy he is to finally be going back to them. To finally be going back home.

**Author's Note:**

> not sure when part 4 will be posted but there will be one, i promise (and the wait hopefully won't be as long as it was for this one)! but anyway hope you enjoyed this little continued drabble and thanks for reading! as always comments and kudos = love :)


End file.
